Conversations We Can Never Have
by Crystalline Maxwell
Summary: Just one of many conversations that Aang and Zuko can't ever have that wouldn't leave me alone. Basically, a 'what if' Zuko joined the cast either sometime in season two or during the finale fic. Written September 6, 2007. One shot. Light AangxZuko.


**Title**: Conversations We Can Never Have

**Characters/Paring**: AangxZuko

**Rating**: PG at worst

**Word Count**: 1,000

**Summary**: Just one of many conversations that Aang and Zuko can't ever have that wouldn't leave me alone. Basically, a 'what if' Zuko joined the cast either sometime in season two or during the finale (which, obviously, would've changed a lot. Hence lack of dead Aang. Also hence lack of hair) fic. Written September 5 2007.

**Author's Notes**: This was written at the start of September, while I was getting used to the idea that my Environmental Sciences teacher had passed away. I wrote it in one go, in a notebook, instead of listening to the new teacher and depressing myself. _So_ not the tribute he would have wanted, but eh! Originally, I was thinking of doing a series of drabbles under this title, but in light of recent episodes, I think those ideas will be going toward something more in-line with the show if I ever write them.

"I thought you were going to stop bothering me."

Aang looked up from the designs he had been tracing in the dirt, eyeing the older boy with an eyebrow raised high in disbelief. Zuko was across the stream, legs crossed and hands folded in meditation with his back to the Avatar. There were finches twittering noisily nearby, frogs downstream, and buzzing insects all around making far more noise than he was! The boy set his Airbending staff down, folding his arms over his chest and stepping around his art to stand at the waterline. "I'm not doing anything," he said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not even talking to you."

Zuko snorted. "I bet you weren't even _thinking_ about me, either," he muttered sullenly. For a few seconds he waited with baited breath for a reply, fully expecting that the Avatar--with such big ears and a nosy disposition--would hear and demand an explanation.

Either Aang had not heard, or he didn't care.

Without bothering to open his eyes, Zuko went on, speaking loudly enough that Aang would _have_ to hear him even if he was trying to ignore him. "You told me once, Avatar, that you couldn't give yourself up to me because it would let down the people that counted on you, the ones who found hope when you returned. Your friends would be sad; it wasn't your destiny; you have a _duty_; other people _need_ you…" The Firebender's voice trailed off, and he was quiet for a handful of seconds, but then he laughed and the sound was empty an hollow, like a steel drum pounded by a soft knotted cloth. "You're a hypocrite. I, too, have a duty to my people; to my family; my nation. I've got _my_ destiny. I had hope riding on your return long before you knew we were even at war. _I_ needed you, and you turned me down."

There was no response, and Zuko opened golden eyes, blinking rapidly against the stinging sensation preceding tears. He raised his head, looking around for any sign of the boy--but the Avatar was nowhere to be seen, gone as easily as a wisp of smoke. Zuko's lips curled into a bitter smile--at least Aang could not see him reach up to wipe the gathering moisture away from his good eye. Not only a hypocrite, but a coward to boot--he was not wholly surprised.

Just disappointed.

As if from nowhere, yellow flashed into his vision, and suddenly thin arms were twined around his shoulders, and a small body pressed against his back. Without looking, Zuko recognized the feel of Aang's clean-shaven baldpate against his neck, and he did not move away--but he did not relax, and he dropped his hands into his lap rather than return any part of the embrace. "You still won't help me."

"No."

Aang's grip tightened as he felt the other male begin to pull away. As much as he might want to help--and against all logic and reason, he _did_--there was just no way to justify throwing everything away for one person. "I'm sorry I can't help you," his voice was a soft, barely-intelligible whisper muffled by the exiled prince's high collar. He shut his eyes, and waited before exhaling in time with his unwilling companion, whose hands were still resting loosely in his lap. Zuko flinched at the rush of warm air against his neck, and Aang turned his head to be more accommodating. "I wish I could."

The prince did not reply, at least not immediately. Rationally, he understood that the world's needs far outweighed any single person's--that Aang, as the Avatar, had as little say in what he could actively do as Zuko had once had back home in the court. With the great power his title granted him, it took away his freedom to choose what to do with it as payment. "It's because I'm Fire Nation, isn't it?" Zuko asked finally, tilting his head to glance at the boy behind him. The child nodded, blue-stripped head bobbing miserably, much like a buoy adrift at sea. "Because even if I did the right thing--"

"--The world wouldn't accept it, coming from anyone but me," Aang finished for him with a dejected sigh. With some reluctance, he released his hold on Zuko, about to draw away. Warm hands came to catch his arms, holding him fast, and Aang stopped, stared, and settled back down in the grass behind him. They were silent for long moments, with no reason to speak further; nothing either could say would change anything.

Finally, Zuko pushed Aang's hand off of his shoulder and moved away. "I've got to go," he said, earning a wounded look from the gray-eyed boy. Aang loosed his hold, let him rise, and made no move to stop him, but he did not look pleased about it.

"Am I bothering you again?"

The exiled prince nearly laughed at this, and he shook his head slowly, although he did not smile. "I just need to think for a while. I'll see you back at camp." With that said, he turned and left, disappearing into the woods in a matter of seconds. It was not much longer before his footsteps had faded away entirely.

Aang watched him go and heaved a great sigh, folding his legs beneath him and resting his fists knuckle-to-knuckle. Breathing deeply, he closed his eyes, trying hard to block out the distractions posed by a living forest so that he could meditate and sort out the clutter in his own mind.

But Zuko's words haunted him, kept coming back, playing back through his mind against all reason. '_I needed you…'_

When at least ten minutes passed and Aang could not clear his mind, he threw his hands up in defeat and clamored to his feet. There was nothing he could do about his mind wandering, and try as he might he was getting nowhere. Even without being there, _Zuko_ was bothering him!

**Owari**


End file.
